


Prayers Gone Unanswered

by ProPinkist



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, feel free to kill me, it's obvious I have no idea what I'm doing with tags, making up Kite's other weapons ftw, the part everyone wanted to see but simultaneously didn't, why did I do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProPinkist/pseuds/ProPinkist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had thought he was ready for the worst to happen. But in his final moments, he was more terrified than he could ever have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayers Gone Unanswered

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much one of the most key fights in the entire story, and I really, really wish it had been shown. I think it would have made people a lot more sympathetic to Kite. I know a few people have written it out before, and I know I'm not the best at fight scenes, so I tried not to go into too much detail about the fight itself, but rather his emotions. ...Perhaps you could say it's ooc of him to be this way, but since he really doesn't have much of a personality in the first place (which makes me mad), I'd say it's possible; I think his childhood might have made him insecure and afraid of dying alone. #cryingoverKite2k5ever
> 
> The ending is not that great, I know; please forgive meee

He should have expected this, was the only thing he could think. Back when he had given the kids that warning, he hadn’t quite believed they would really listen to him when the time came… deep down, the idea that they wouldn’t made him feel oddly touched. But he also hadn’t thought such a moment would really occur, despite the dangerous situation they were in.

In the end, it had happened, and they had hesitated, just like he suspected they would, leading to one of the worst possible outcomes for him. There was no taking it back now; no taking back how the events had played out… and no taking back his arm.

Kite gripped the Crazy Slots mace tightly, sweat and rain making it more difficult as it mixed with the blood pooling on the ground. The pain from his wound was, unsurprisingly, excruciating, and he knew he desperately needed to staunch the bleeding somehow. But that just wasn’t possible right now: the most immediate threat still remained directly in front of him.

The feline looking ant seemed fascinated by his ability, and was ready for a fight. Kite knew he had no choice but to fight back. Running meant it would follow him, and lead it directly to Gon and Killua, who he specifically had told to run so he could keep them safe. And they had ultimately done so, even if a bit late. If he could hold off the ant here, entertain it, then he would have done what was most important. Kite had known all along that if a situation like this happened, it was up to him to risk his own life to protect theirs.

…And yet, despite prepping himself with this mindset, he found himself feeling a bit of what could only be described as fear.

“I’m looking forward to this, nyaa~” the cat purred, and Kite deigned not to answer. If he could just land a hit on it, then he could get another chance at the slots and another chance for a better weapon. With his arm gone, he was at a huge disadvantage… more than he already would have been.

Not wanting to waste any more time losing blood (and not wanting his emotions to show on his face), Kite charged forward.

The ant’s eyes widened in delight and anticipation, and it dodged his attempted attack easily, swiveling behind him in an instant and went to nab him in the back. He managed to somehow slide away just in time, spinning around and nailing the ant in the head. It wasn’t hard enough at all to do anything more than startle it, but it was enough to meet the condition on his ability.

Without stopping for a moment, finding his balance made greatly harder because of only having one arm, Kite leapt back and immediately called for a new roll. The clown commenced its annoying laughing again, but he barely heard it, all his energy and attention focused on watching the cat. It seemed to be slowing down to his pace for now (he didn’t think saying he was “grateful” was the right wording), but Kite didn’t doubt that it could and would use all of its ability and strength eventually. It could probably end the fight right away if it wanted to… but instead it wanted to toy with him. Like a cat would. The idea sent a chill down his spine.

Never looking down, Kite felt as his new weapon was formed in his hand. It was number 6, the automatic gun, and he couldn’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief. This wasn’t one of his strongest weapons, but it was better to have one he could use quickly and from a distance, instead of one of those which were either close range or required focus to unleash their strength. He would have to switch to something else after a certain point, but for now this was the best option in his arsenal.

He would make this opportunity count.

What ensued was a frenzied dance between them, the ant lunging on all fours to claw at him like a feline would, and him putting distance between them as quickly as he was able (that was the benefit of long legs), firing off rapid rounds of bullets. At the very least, it kept the ant dodging, although at every turn it attempted to get around to his side where it was safe to close the gap between them. It got hit by a fair share of bullets, but although it seemed to hurt it to seem degree, Kite quickly realized he would have to keep this up for a long time in order to damage it a significant amount. Time that he doubted he had.

It ended even sooner than he feared.

The cursed rain had made the ground slippery and muddy, and one leap back, Kite felt his feet give way underneath him, and that moment he was airborne was all his opponent needed.

All the air left him as an incredibly strong blow that he swore was enough to break his ribs hit his side, and he went sailing through the air, ramming right into a tree trunk. The scream ripped from his throat as the pain from his arm wound worsened tenfold, and even more blood exploded out. Kite lay there for a moment, breathless and his vision swimming. But he didn’t wait too long to will himself back up, as incredibly difficult as it was, using the tree as a support as his legs trembled with the effort. Every part of his body wanted him to stay down and recover more, but he had to force himself through it (it was lucky that he at least hadn’t hit his head). He had to keep going. Kite didn’t know where Killua would run to or how far he would go, but he couldn’t risk this creature going after them if it got tired of him. He had to keep it entertained, had to keep its focus on him alone.

…Had to let it kill him.

Kite felt his face grow wet, and it wasn’t just from the rain and blood. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, just saying that you were prepared to die for someone and it actually coming down to that were two different things. He wasn’t overconfident in his abilities, despite how easily he had handled everything they had encountered up to this point… but deep down, Kite had thought that just _maybe_ , he could do this. Even when his arm had been taken due to that split second of wrong decisions, he had _hoped_.

_I’m not… going to make it…_

His heart beating faster, Kite called for a new weapon, which turned out to be number 7, the sword. He had come to the obvious conclusion of how the fight would end, but if he let his fear crush him now and he gave up, he would never be able to forgive himself. He’d fight until the very end, because that’s what a Hunter did. Ging wouldn’t want him to go down in any other way. Gon wouldn’t either.

_Gon…_ _I’m so sorry that I failed to be who you wanted me to be…_

The cat ant seemed to be enthralled by his power, even though he was doing a poorer and poorer job of showing it as the minutes ticked by. Every time Kite became lucky and actually managed to slash it, it stared at the wound in fascination (apparently the ants had blue blood, which he managed to find interesting in the midst of this life-threatening situation; typical him), though still never giving him a chance to get another hit in right away.

Kite knew this couldn’t last much longer. His movements had long since gotten sloppy, and yet somehow, he managed to get himself back up after every blow, despite how impossible it should have been. Calling it “willpower” seemed cliché, but there probably wasn’t any other word to describe it. The cat waited for him each time before resuming its assault, at least, but it didn’t provide that much solace.

_Are they… far away enough? Am I doing a good enough job?_

The ant shredded through Kite’s back with its claws, sending him to the ground for the hundredth time.

_Why did I pursue this mission on my own… I wasn’t strong enough for it… shouldn’t have brought them with me._

His remaining arm got twisted, and he was certain he felt something crack.

_Spin and the others… still need me… I still need them._

He tripped yet again, getting a face-full of mud and water.

_Gon and Killua… what if something else got them… no wait, I was supposed to get Gon to his father… damn it, Ging, this is all_ your _fault…_

The feline ant lifted him up by his collar (it was a miracle it could support his weight with how ripped it was), staring at his face with its wide and inquisitive eyes. Kite could barely focus on it anymore, but he held his gaze as best he could. It disgusted him how healthy it still appeared despite everything.

“Such a shame; your beautiful face is all dirty, nyaa~!” it purred. “…How about this, since I’m nice and you’ve given me such a great fight: I’ll give you one more chance to throw your strongest at me. It only seems fair.”

Kite responded by spitting blood at the ant.

“Go to hell,” he whispered, as little tears trickled down his face.

The cat growled, dropping him suddenly, and he let out a cry of pain upon hitting the ground at an odd angle and so forcefully.

“It’s up to you,” it said, clearly disgruntled. Kite couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction that he had annoyed it. “I’m giving you one final chance to best me.” It stepped away from him, holding out its arms and staring down at him with that rabid expression. “…Do your worst; _no strings attached, nyaa~!”_

Kite bit his lip, tasting even more blood than he already did. He hated the idea of playing into a possible trap, but he had nothing else to lose at this point. The cat was allowing him some amount of dignity before he died (although it didn’t realize that he couldn’t _choose_ his weapons)… it made him angry, but he wouldn’t allow himself to not _try_.

He pulled himself over to a tree again with the help of the mud and grass, and began the long, arduous process of standing yet again. His entire body hurt, the stump of his arm was numb, his head was pounding, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Kite whimpered and teared up more as his legs screamed at the effort of standing on them, and he coughed out even more blood, trying desperately to stop feeling so breathless ( _it hurts so much to breathe, everything hurts)_. When he was finally in some semblance of an upright position, he noticed the cat watching him in his struggle. It was more like a white blob to him than a solid shape, but he knew it was giving him that smirk, its tail wiggling in anticipation.

Kite stared upwards towards the lightening sky, crying from the pain, the fear, and the sheer anger he felt. _I could run away right now… except I can’t. I don’t even have the strength to walk anymore; it’s a miracle I’m standing._

He squeezed the tree bark weakly, barely registering the pain in his palm.

_After everything… this is how I’m going to go?_

Kite summoned Crazy Slots. He doubted he would be able to hold any weapon he got, but he was going to do it anyway. The clown, thankfully and surprisingly, remained silent as it spun the slot. Maybe it understood how sad the situation was.

It landed on 2. The scythe, and the best thing he could hope for out of all his weapons, he supposed.

It landed in Kite’s hand, and for some reason, it was light enough for him to raise up. In the back of his mind, he was positive it was normally much, much heavier, but the reason behind why it may have been different this time was something he was too tired to try and figure out. Maybe it was the clown being nice to him… or maybe it was a sign of how weak he had grown; maybe it wasn’t fully formed.

Kite shifted a little, bracing his back against the tree, ignoring how much it hurt his wounds there. Breathing heavily, he batted his blood-soaked hair away absentmindedly, and slowly held the scythe out in front of him. His arm was shaking terribly, and black spots entered his already blurry vision. He knew he had to do this now, before he dropped it.

Taking as big a breath as he could anymore, he swung the scythe in an arc in front of him just like he had many hours ago. It was a pathetically weak swing compared to before, and took all of his energy, but luckily he only had one target he needed to hit. And it was standing directly in front of him, ready and waiting.

To Kite’s relief, Silent Waltz activated with a blast, just like he prayed it would. Once he knew his part was over, he immediately dismissed the scythe, and promptly collapsed face-first onto the ground.

The wind was swirling and ripping across the area in the vortex he had created, but for how loud it was, he could barely hear it. He couldn’t even revel in the sight of the cat getting caught in the blast. Nothing hurt much anymore; rather, laying down made him feel better. He could finally rest, didn’t have to fight anymore… because if this didn’t work, there was nothing else he could do.

Everything felt like a dream… and yet, even still, Kite was still conscious enough to still think.

_Did it work? I hope it did… please, someone help… I don’t want to die! Someone… anyone… save me… Gon… oh god, Gon, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me, I failed you… I failed both of you…_

His chest hurt even more than it already did at the thought of Gon and Killua.

_Don’t leave me here… There’s so much I haven’t done… The kids need help, I have to tell them I’m sorry… have to tell Spin and Stick and Monta and Banana and Lin and Podungo sorry too… wait, let me talk to them… let me see them… please… someone save me, I’m scared…!_

He had come close to dying like this many a time before, during almost the entire first half of his life: so many nights in that alleyway where it was dark and cold and he was always _so hungry, we need more food, just a little bit more,_ the winter nights especially threatening to drag him down into a sleep he would never awaken from because of the hunger and the thirst and the cold, despite how many furry bodies always surrounded him in an effort to keep him warm. Or the rare times when his friends didn’t get there in time and he was attacked in order to gain his food (it was never much, but to the people there, any amount was precious), and the only thing he could do was let them “help” him back to their hideout, trying to heal his injuries as best he could with as few materials as possible (his family got hurt much more often than he did).

Kite had been scared then. Scared that no one would save him. But in the end, fate had ended up on his side, and Ging had come along and saved him from the situation permanently. And his animal family had been there to help him as best they could all before that. He childishly missed them, especially recently.

…So where was his savior now?

_Someone has to be there… please… I don’t want to die…_

His vision was almost completely dark by now, and all his other senses had dulled, but Kite heard someone approaching at that very moment.

His heart leapt into his throat.

_Ging, is that you? It has to be you… Thank you… I’m sorry I can’t see you anymore, but I’m sure I will once I wake up… since you’re here… I’m not scared anymore…_

“Well, you did your best, nyaa~. …Unfortunately, it wasn’t good enough. …But I won’t let you suffer any longer, to thank you for being such a wonderful opponent!”

_…Huh? Who’s-_

 

**b l a c k**

 

* * *

 

“Kite is alive! He wouldn’t ever let that thing beat him!”

Gon grinned determinedly at Killua, the image of his mentor taking down that monstrous enemy giving him courage.

“But… considering his injury, he’d have a hard time moving around. So he’s probably hiding, waiting for us to return.

“So we should hurry back, once we’re stronger… To save Kite!”

Killua smiled sadly at him, not seeming very certain, but he eventually conceded. Gon kept talking and forming plans, eager for their reunion. This was just a minor setback, he knew. After all, Kite still had so much he needed to do with him, like finding Ging.

He couldn’t wait for their reunion.


End file.
